Engulfed
by CannibalXPhaerie
Summary: Saraid, along with her best friend, are solitary fey that roam the forests of New Jersey near Manhattan. Displeased by the current king and queen, Saraid learns Prince Weylin's full name and discovers a name is only as important as you make it out to be.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own Tithe, a Mrs. Holly Black does! These are just a few of my ideas I would put into a story if I got the chance!!

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Sonda Saraid Signa - Death Fire Pixie

*Kaye Rye - Pixie Changling - Queen

*Rath Roiben Rye - Elfen Knight - King

Worse Weylin Rye - Moth Winged Faerie - Prince

Silen Sayer Signa - Divining Faerie

Cyric - River Kelpie

* - Original Characters

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Her pink and black faerie wings fluttered slightly as Saraid slept soundly on her stomach. Her pitch black skin glistened as droplets of water fell from the roots that dangled from her ceiling. Saraid's hot pink hair was damp and clung to her face. Her blanket was moist and was tangled around her waist and legs, hopelessly soaked to Saraid's skin. A drop of water fell on the little furred faerie that lay on Saraid's mattress. It lifted it's small fox head and stared at the water droplets forming above it. The little faerie sneezed and quickly darted under the slack blanket and curled into a little ball before falling asleep. Without warning, a large droplet of water, which was twenty degrees colder than the others, fell on Saraid's face. Her abnormal pink and black eyes shot open. The cold threw her body into the waking world and Saraid sat up.

She turned her head at the sound of a chuckle in her room, her hot pink hair flying. In the corner by her door, Saraid spotted Cyric, a gleaming smile adorning his dark emerald skin. Saraid smirked and crawled off of her mattress to the dirt floor of her room. She touched a piece of cloth as her glamour spiraled invisibly around her. Soon a colorful hot pink and black dress adorned Saraid's body. Saraid stood and looked over the the man shaped kelpie.

"What're you doing in my room?" Saraid asked Cyric, gliding over to him. His white eyes glittered with mirth and happiness as he gingerly placed a strand of hair behind his ear.

"My river flooded last night. You're home happens to be in the woods in which it flooded," Cyric explained. Saraid nodded and marched out of the room, the little furry faerie manipulating the blankets into a warm, plush den on the mattress.

"No, since that one king assassinated the previous queen of the Unseelie lands, you've been free. This king doesn't demand your loyalty. What's the real reason you're here?" Saraid asked, climbing a ladder in the living room area of her home. Cyric followed close behind, glamour changing his skin from deep emerald to pasty white. Once Saraid reached the top of her home, the squealsh of drowned grass grated and drenched her black hands. She lifted herself up over the ledge, Cyric right behind her. Once the kelpie righted himself, Saraid used her glamour to turn her skin a pasty white and to hide her extraordinary eyes. Cyric frowned upon seeing her eyes now a boring brown replaced the magnificent pinks and was surrounded by a sea of white, not black.

"Really, I love your eyes. Why hide them?" Cyric asked as they headed towards the edges of the forest. Saraid snorted, the compliment sarcastic.

"Don't try to inveigle me. Sayer already told me of my near future last night. It involves ironside. That's where we're going, huh?" Saraid asked. Cyric nodded sardonically.

"My brother stole from me. I haven't seen him in nearly a century and didn't plan on it. He killed our mother," Cyric explained. Saraid looked at him quizzically.

"Kelpies can't die," Saraid stated. It was a known fact. They were ageless and impervious to all forms of death. The creature that defied God himself and got away with it.

"My mother was human," Cyric commented. Saraid nodded. Faerie blood always ran true and dominant. Unlike his brother, Cyric enjoyed his name his mother had given him and taken to her form. Cyric's brother remained nameless and kept their resentful father's shape of the water horse.

The forest gave way to open road. Off in the distance, both Saraid and Cyric could hear the rush of the Jersey Ocean crash against the shores of Manhattan. It was a pitiful existance for all faeries near the urban lands. Saraid nodded as she checked both sides of the road. Cyric ran across and jumped off the cliff to the water below. Saraid follow shortly after only to be nearly clipped by a motorcycle. A short scream escaped her lips and Cyric was once more up on the ledge, ready to assist her. The man fell off the motorcycle and the vehicle crashed against the metal railing lining the cliff.

"Dammit Saraid! You could've killed yourself!" Cyric yelled as the pixie scooted towards him. She fought to keep her glamour hiding her instead of lashing out at the man. The said specimen tore the helmet off and glared at the pair with glistening eyes similar to Saraid's own. Deep irises of blood red and fire surrounded by a sea of oil black. The only difference were the pupils. Instead of white, they were black.

"Worthless solitary fey! I could have been killed!" The faerie man yelled, long black hair cascading down his shoulder, elfen ears knifing through. Both Cyric and Saraid scowled and released their human glamour. Saraid's wings burst from her back and Cyric's teeth returned to the monstrous fangs. Neither had much taste for Faerie Prince Weylin, the brat offspring of the Rye dynasty.

"Excuse us, elf, but you're in our territory currently. You could scream, and no one would care. I could burn you with the fires of the ten suns and no one would aide you!" Saraid yelled, standing. Cyric bared his teeth in a ferocious smirk. The fey in these parts cared only for self and pleasure. A king or royalty ruined the self and controlled the pleasure.

"You're lucky I am not my parents, Pixie. Your head would be mine," Weylin shot back. Saraid growled, the earth reverberating. The Signa family was infamous for attacks on royalty and their mastery of forbidden powers. Saraid had mastered the Death Fires, earning her own species of Faerie. The Death Fires were the fires of the ten suns, each flame standing for each sun and its representation. Not that Prince Weylin would know what any of those were.

"No, Weylin, you're worse!" Saraid snapped back. At the sound of the last word, Weylin's skin crawled and his eyes glazed momentarily. Saraid stopped. She had said something and hit a physical response. Not a good one for the prince either. He recovered and glared at the pixie.

"You will attend the gathering at the palace tonight, pixie. We have matters to discuss," Weylin stated. His bike returned to him and his helmet to his hand. With that, the elfen prince rode off.

"Ok, either the parent comment really pissed him off or you struck his liking. I'm not sure either is preferable in your situation, Saraid," Cyric explained. Saraid merely smirked, knowing full well why Weylin wanted to see her. The thick glamour disguise returned to her flesh and Cyric followed suit.

"Let's head Ironside, shall we?" Saraid said, completely ignoring Cyric's comment. Worse Weylin Rye, Saraid thought sardonically. She knew the prince's full name.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I do not own Tithe, a Mrs. Holly Black does! These are just a few of my ideas I would put into a story if I got the chance!!

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Sonda Saraid Signa - Death Fire Pixie  
*Kaye Rye - Pixie Changling - Queen  
*Rath Roiben Rye - Elfen Knight - King  
Worse Weylin Rye - Moth Winged Faerie - Prince  
Silen Sayer Signa - Divining Faerie  
Cyric - River Kelpie  
* - Original Characters

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Cyric screamed as he threw an empty beer bottle at the dry stream. His brother was no where in these lands. The failure of the Unseelie tithe had freed him as well. The demon water horse that Cyric's brother was now ran rampant around the lands. The only notice that alerted Cyric to his brother's disappearance was a letter directed to him on a rock. It was written in human blood. It had said: _She was delicious, Cyric. _

"Let's hang in the subway, Cyric. We have no place here now," Saraid said. Then, without warning, Cyric released a hellish scream, his fangs curling out of his mouth like a shark's and his eyes bulging out of his head. Saraid stepped back. Never had she seen Cyric in such a state. Without a second thought, Saraid stared at the green of his dark skin. In a flash of pain and adrenaline, Saraid's eyes rotated. Her irises turned to shades of green while her hair and clothing changed to emerald green. She sighed as she snapped her fingers. A green flame engulfed her hands and she advanced towards Cyric.

"Calm down," Saraid said as her left hand touched Cyric's shoulder. The green flame surrounded him and he sighed. A cool, soothing feeling began to over come him. The flame dispersed and both Cyric and Saraid resumed their human glamours.

"Which flame?" Cyric asked, his voice drain. He was impervious to her fires, although only a few were lethal.

"Green, healing," Saraid responded. He nodded, one of the benevolent flames. It had never been worth his time to keep track, he only knew her usual pink was that of pain. It was merely painful with minimal contact, but large doses could be lethal to anyone but herself and Cyric.

"You're right, we should head towards the subways. Plus you have to get ready for a party with the prince tonight," Cyric whispered. He paused, then erupted in stupendous laughter. Saraid smiled, it was nice to see her best friend cheer up even if he was making fun of her.

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The ice cream dripped onto the rail as Saraid licked the foreign delicacy. The rail ahead of them roared with a tram full of pitiful humans. Next to Saraid sat Cyric and three other fey, none whose name Saraid bothered to collect. The five sat in relative silence, just merely enjoying the temporary peace that had been instilled upon them. One of the fey let her long spider like fingers tap upon the rail which they sat on. Beautiful piano notes filled the subway tunnel. The tram passed away, wind kicked their hair every direction. A smile fell upon Saraid's face. The momentary tranquility wouldn't last long she knew. As soon as the three fey began to get sick from the iron they were surrounded by the music would stop, Cyric and Saraid would be alone, and harsh reality of that evening would snap back to her.

Another of the nameless fey opened her mouth, the resounded echo of a violin began to accompany the piano faerie. The last fey, a male, waved his hand slowly in the air, low bass notes of the phantom orchestra falling into the air. Smiling, Saraid turned to the male faerie, deep purple scars adorning his grey skin. Her eyes rotated and turned to purple, along with the rest of her. An organized snap of her fingers and violet flame burst from her hands. Saraid out stretched her hands, an illusion already beginning. Fiery purple figures danced alone in the air. Cyric reached out his hand as he glamoured the figures to new colors and defined shapes. Before the faeries a dramatic love story played before them, step in time and tune with the music. Saraid controlled the creatures and the setting while Cyric defined and tuned its character.

Taking her eyes away from her play, Saraid saw the stranger fey engrossed within her magic. They continued to play their music for the wonderful little drama before them, while Saraid only created for their music. Neither wished to end, the music too tearfully beautiful and serene while the play was too heartwrenchingly lovely and real. Another tram ran past, bringing the play from night to day. Glamoured fey aboard the tram watched below to see only glimpses of the tranquility that lay beneath the iron hell. The show continued, even after the tram past and its faerie passengers returned to the railways to watch the masterpiece. The five faeries completely lost themselves in what they were creating, never noticing its audience.

The play reached its climax, the beautiful girl was impaled by a sword held by her forbidden lover. She died, her heart torn in two. The forbidden lover cried, he had mistaken her for his rival. He held her close as large crystal tears fell to her wounds. Now faerie tale magic began to work as her heart healed and the lovely girl awakened from her flight with death. The couple rejoices and runs away to a nearby forest. The story ends with the girl's mother finding her blood on the ground and runs off into the forest in search for the couple.

Saraid dispersed her fire and Cyric relinquished his glamour. The three stranger fey continued to play, delighted smiles upon their faces. Looking around, the audience applauded very lightly as not to disturb the music. Saraid called her fire back to her, in the air she created brilliant violet flowers that glided down to the audience. Each gained one, a smile upon their magnificent faces. The five stood, the three fey nodded, grateful for their company, as they left. Music still resounded in the subway. The audience left, taking their purple flowers with them. Cyric and Saraid followed one, whose glamour returned her to a wonderfully aged older human woman. The three reached the surface. The sun hit the flower in her hands and it gracefully spiraled up and into petals. The faerie only watched in awe as the violet petals turned to a shimmering dust in the sky and wandered majestically away. She turned and nodded to Cyric and Saraid then went on her way. Cyric and Saraid smiled at each other in silence as they headed towards the coast to go home. Their ice cream lay forgotten on the subway rails.

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"This is fucking great!" Cyric yelled as he roared with laughter. Saraid scowled at the kelpie. She was experimenting with dresses for that night. She hated it when Cyric used human curses within his language. They were obscene and vile. It was almost as bad as the court fey with their uptight and righteous dialect and formal speech. Unfortunately, Saraid was stuck somewhere in between, learning her dialect from her brother and Cyric. It made her sound either stupid or arrogant when other fey decided to talk with her.

"Shut up Cyric! You believe I want to attend this infernal 'gathering'?!" Saraid yelled, her pink eyes blazing. The small fox faced faerie sat on an old dented and damaged dresser that sat off in the corner. It ruffled its fur and hissed at the air before it. Saraid relaxed mildly, it could sense her anger in the air and was going to attack it.

"Calm, Fighter," Saraid said, her glamour morphing the dress to that of a mortal Chinese replication. It was marvelous, black silk with hot pink embroidering. It reached to the floor where a white fabric made the bottom puff out. There was no fabric on her back, her wings ruffled slightly in the damp air. The sleeves and bodice was attached to the collar in thin strands of fabric. From the hips up, the dress clung to Saraid's form. Pleased with the design and make, she glamoured a pair of black heels with pink stitching.

"Going to a human affair?" Cyric asked. This wear wasn't something court fey wore, however it was something that Saraid had spied in an ironside dress shop as a child. Her brother Sayer had always promised to get it for her, but he never did. Once he became a divining faerie he became a recluse and wouldn't leave his home. For the time being, Saraid would glamour the mortal dress she had dreamt about as a child.

"No, I'm going to make a statement. If I have offended the prince, then I shall die in lovely mortal wear to defy the court. If the price has taken a liking to me, let the court see how defiant of a mate he wishes to choose," Saraid replied. Cyric snorted, her ideas were always outlandish at best.

"When you die, see if there is a mortal heaven and hell. At that case, as God or Satan for my mortality. I'd love to join you Saraid," Cyric snapped sarcastically. Saraid sighed, the sharp remarks always reminding her exactly how Cyric had been raised and the reason he was still partially angered.

"I won't die tonight. If I have to I will use the black fire," Saraid replied confidently. Shocked and afraid, Cyric bolted out of his seat on the chair and next to Saraid. He grabbed her by her shoulders and whipped her around. Side by side, Cyric towered over her.

"Are you insane?! That flame is one of two experimental flames! It could very well kill you! You aren't one hundred percent sure of what it is capable of! There are reasons your family is very few! Those forbidden powers have been known to kill those who control them! The Death Fires are the most dangerous and least known! Saraid, tell me you will not use that flame tonight!" Cyric yelled. Saraid stared, horrified, into Cyric's concerned white eyes. She nodded vigorously, She had never seen such a harsh reaction from Cyric except from these last few hours. Something had happened. He had heard something.

"What has Sayer told you?" Saraid whispered. A nervous smile graced Cyric's face. He released Saraid's shoulders, stepping back.

"_A love so forbidden by law and fate, a mother's wrath enrages desperate works. Death befalls the one whom wished to call away law and fate._" Cyric spoke, his voice as distance and cryptic as Sayer when he had told Cyric. A cold shiver fell down Saraid's body, the riddle within the prophecy was whose death was he speaking of?

"What question did you ask?" Saraid asked. Cyric shook his head, his black hair flying.

"Promise me you will not use the black fire," Cyric replied, refusing to answer the question. Saraid nodded, understanding her best friend's concern.

"I promise. My word is my binding law. The black flame will not be released tonight," Saraid swore. Cyric sighed and smiled. With a slight chuckle, he began to push Saraid towards the ladder leading outside.

"C'mon, time for you to strike a prince's fancy," Cyric teased. Saraid merely laughed and tried to forget the kelpie's outburst.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I do not own Tithe, a Mrs. Holly Black does! These are just a few of my ideas I would put into a story if I got the chance!!

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Sonda Saraid Signa - Death Fire Pixie  
*Kaye Rye - Pixie Changling - Queen  
*Rath Roiben Rye - Elfen Knight - King  
Worse Weylin Rye - Moth Winged Faerie - Prince  
Silen Sayer Signa - Divining Faerie  
Cyric - River Kelpie  
* - Original Characters

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Saraid walked passed the court fey with her head held high. On her way to the court, Saraid had glamoured her hair into an elegant ponytail. A sliver of fear ran casually through her veins. It spiked and burned her heart, causing the hateful adrenaline to course after it in her heart. The faeries looked at her in bewilderment. These weren't her people nor did they want her to be theirs. A hatred so feirce for these people boiled within the pit of her stomach. They refused to be to close to her, they made room for her as she headed towards the dias where the king, queen, and prince sat. Her outfit granted her obscene looks and remarks, none of which made her wish to strike out. The look Weylin was giving her did however.

She stepped onto the dais, returning Weylin's glare with as much hate as she could bear without tempting the guards to kill her on the spot. Dry, dead roots hung above her head. Earth packed the walls and gave it an unfamiliar earthy scent. Her home in New Jersey smelled of water, moss, decay, and life. Here it smelled of clay, stone, and the dead that lay rotting above. There faeries here were dressed in earthy tones, less extravagant than the lighter half of the court would. The king and queen sat in large throwns, the king dressed in silver and queen in black ironside wear. Saraid expected a more accepting welcome from the changling queen, but she only received a look that rivaled with her son's. Saraid could see that Weylin's eyes where a mixture of his mother's and his father's eyes.

"Kneel, darkling," the king spoke. Growling, Saraid looked to Weylin's red eyes. Her's rotated and turned red, changing her hair, nails, clothing decal, and lips the same color.

"I kneel for no one, your majesty. Also, I am no darkling. I am a death fire pixie. If that is too much to speak, then do not bother to call on me at all," Saraid replied. Roiben growled, he was unaccustomed to insubordination.

"Then do not bother to return once you are escorted out," Roiben announced. Two knights, one in red and the other in green, appeared by Saraid's side. At that moment, Weylin stood.

"No need for that. Srrevin, Colisinion, leave her be. Come, death fire pixie, we have matter to attend," Weylin spoke. Saraid nodded and walked to the prince's side. It was then that Kaye stood.

"Weylin, what're you up to?" Kaye demanded of her son. Weylin only smirked, a trait he had picked up from the human school his parents had forced him to attend as a child.

"A woman of such character shouldn't be handled in front of those who might wish to take what she offers to me away," Weylin replied. Both Kaye and Roiben raised their eyebrows in shock. They assumed Saraid had struck their son's fancy.

"I'll expect an explanation in the morning Weylin," Roiben said. Weylin only chuckled and escorted Saraid to the palace.

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"You know something you shouldn't, pixie," Weylin said, He had her pinned up against his bed room wall. He had been followed by Colisinion, most likely upon his mother's orders. To make the discussion seem to be of a flirtatious nature, Weylin took Saraid to his room.

"I'll assume you brought me here to make it look like you want privacy to do what you will with me," Saraid replied. Weylin scowled and shoved away from her. A sadistic chuckle escaped Saraid's bright red lips. She hadn't once released the red from her system, she had to be prepared to protect herself from the prince in case he did wish to send her to an early grave with her secrets.

"Tell me you don't know what I think you do," Weylin hissed at her. Fear relapsed within his eyes. Saraid smiled once more. She sauntered haughtily to Weylin, it wasn't every day one had power over the royal family. Especially one so well liked as the Rye dynasty.

"Tell you what?" Saraid asked sweetly as she pressed herself against the prince. He stood still as stone, anger and fear boiling out of his body like a drug. It pushed her further and further, willing her to endanger herself, wanting her to kill any hopes the hated royalty had of winning. His hatred drug pushed her harder and harder until she jumped.

"_**Worse Weylin Rye?**_" With that, Weylin let out a horrific yell and threw her to the ground. Saraid could only gasp as she fell. Within moments, Weylin hovered above her, a dagger at her throat.

"Utter a sound and I'll kill you pixie. I refuse to be a slave to a worthless, nameless fey as my father was!" Weylin hissed. Saraid trembled in fear. All she needed was to cast a glance to the gold picture hanging on the prince's wall and that was it. Her eyes rotated and as the pain formed, Saraid snapped the fingers of her left hand. Before the prince could do anything, a bright gold fireball shot him away from Saraid. As the flame dispersed, Weylin spied Saraid in the corner. Her hand was outstretched in front of her, a look of pure hatred and disgust ravaging her now yellow eyes. Weylin was shocked, although the flame didn't appear to harm her, Saraid's dress was burnt and torn. A line of neon red slowly fell down the corner of Saraid's throat. Looking down at his dagger, Weylin saw the same neon red glistening the tip.

"What did you do?" Weylin asked, horror in his eyes. Saraid's glamour fell around her, fixing the dress and making it shorter. She knew she'd need the excess room to run.

"The species of Death Fire Pixie is that of a winged creature who controls the fires of the ten suns. Each sun is represented by a different color and different sensation. Yellow symbolizes defense of the third sun," Saraid calmly said. Weylin stood, cautious at first. The flame didn't hurt him, the fall however did. If Saraid wished to absolutely destroy him without ever touching him, she could.

"What is your name, pixie?" Weylin asked. Saraid smirked mirthlessly.

"I am called Saraid, born of Silma of the solitary fey," Saraid replied. Weylin recognized the name, that faerie had started a war with the kingdom when Weylin was only a boy. With Silma had been a divining faerie, most likely of the same family. He had foreseen the fall of the kingdom and the rise of a faerie with death in their eyes and life glowing from their hands and with that faerie's rise they would usher in a new era of peace or war with the human race. Once the prophecy had been made Silma sacrificed himself to protect the divining faerie who managed to escape to unclaimed lands. Saraid was Silma's daughter.

"Have you any connection to a divining faerie your father may have know?" Weylin asked. Saraid jumped to her feet and hissed. She snapped her fingers and yellow flames bound into existence.

"My father died protecting my brother, who escaped to raise me in my father's stead. Now, Worse Weylin Rye, repeat what you know of me and what I have said to nothing and no one!" Saraid yelled. Weylin paled, he didn't know who else could have heard what Saraid had just said. Her command was all binding and irreversible. A golden fire exploded from Saraid. The ornate oak door to the prince's quarters burst open and Saraid jumped out of the fire. Saraid ran down the hallway as Colisinion ran to Weylin's room, just as the fire died.

"Your majesty! Weylin! Come my friend, get up!" Colisinion yelled as he gently slapped the prince's face. Weylin coughed, he took a pretty good hit to the head as the fireball blasted him to the other side of the room.

"Weylin! Weylin, who was that? What happened?" Colisinion demanded. Weylin blinked and looked at his oldest friend. A smirk befell the prince's face.

"Step back, Colisinion," Weylin whispered. The knight clad in green nodded and took a step back. Weylin leaned forward and allowed his glamour hidden wings to burst from his back. They were tones of brown, grey and black, the edges frayed and seemingly flightless.

"She was no one, Colisinion. Yet she is my dreaded, accursed world for the time being. Alert my mother, I'm leaving the court to retrieve what is rightfully mine," Weylin spoke. With that the prince lept to his feet and ran down the hall in pursuit of the pixie to stole his everything.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I do not own Tithe, a Mrs. Holly Black does! These are just a few of my ideas I would put into a story if I got the chance!!

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Sonda Saraid Signa - Death Fire Pixie  
*Kaye Rye - Pixie Changling - Queen  
*Rath Roiben Rye - Elfen Knight - King  
Worse Weylin Rye - Moth Winged Faerie - Prince  
Silen Sayer Signa - Divining Faerie  
Cyric - River Kelpie  
* - Original Characters

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Saraid's fires  
Pink - Pain  
Green - Healing  
Violet - Illusion  
Red - Fury  
Yellow- Defense

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"No!" Kaye cried out as Colisinion knelt before the royal thrones. The dais and the ballroom were empty except for Colisinion and maybe a few other kneeling knights. Tears ran from Kaye's black eyes. Roiben frown in agony. His son had left to chase some girl who tried to kill him with a bizarre magic, of which even the most arcane of fey within his court had no knowledge of. Now his love was grieving the loss of her only child, the only one she could ever bear. A freak accident only a few years back caused Kaye to never be able to bear children unless she was willing to forfeit her life for theirs. That was a grievance Roiben wouldn't allow.

"Are you sure he called her 'his world'?" Roiben asked. Colisinion lifted his ashen face to his masters. His neon green eyes contrasted greatly with his grey skin and even more so with his bark toned hair.

"Yes, your majesty. I did not stop him, he seems intent on seizing her in the least literal sense," Colisinion responded. A shatter brought everyone's attention to the queen. Kaye was standing, however the large crystal goblet that had been at her side was in pieces on the floor. The silver liquid was slowly easing its way to the edge of the dais. Rage echoed through Kaye's eyes.

"I want every available knight, merchant, serving hand, every available fey to find my son! I want that damned pixie dead and her head served to me on a platter! I WANT MY SON BACK!" Kaye screamed at Colisinion. Roiben stood and rested a single hand on his love's shoulder. She turned to embrace him, rage and grief causing her to shake uncontrollably.

"Consider it done, my queen," Colisinion stated. He left the grieving king and queen on the dais to alert the entire court, both sides, of the order. The pixie and the prince would have to still be somewhere within the lands at this time. It should be no time before the queen's cries where that of joy instead of this heart wrenching sadness.

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"Ha ha! That fixed their goat!" Saraid yelled above the roaring wind to Cyric. The kelpie merely nodded. His hooves trod against the earth as they races through the forest, quickly escaping the faerie court. The trees flew past Saraid as a smile befell her face. Slowly, she released her grip on Cyric's mane to reach for the night sky in joy and excitement. Her indigo hair flew away from her, forever trying to grasp the air behind her. Upon exiting the palace, Saraid called upon the sixth sun of the night in its representing color, indigo. After a time, Saraid reached back into Cyric's mane and grasped the fine hairs. The trees seemed to laugh with her as she suddenly felt a separate presence following closely behind them. The presence was getting closer and closer. Saraid began to panic mildly.

"Hey, Cy! Someone is behind us!" Saraid yelled above the screaming wind. Saraid quickly snapped her fingers and indigo fires roared to life. Intricate designs wove their way over Cyric's dark emerald skin. They sped through the forest, leaving a trail of indigo fire in their wake. The fires lept to life among the darkened trees and blackened out the silvery moon. The night blackened considerable behind them. The presence was slowly falling behind. The indigo fires Saraid held her hands faded and the pair ran out of the Faerie Court borders.

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Saraid jumped from Cyric's back and landed gracefully on the ground. Small drifts of snow had began to fall. March winds still wished to bring snow and they did in New Jersey. Saraid ran to the large oak tree. She unleashed her glamour and jumped through the hole it bore. Cyric regained his human form and jumped behind Saraid. Fighter jumped off the couch and scuttled to Saraid. His weasel like body crawled up Saraid and he rested on Saraid's shoulder.

"Are you sure Fighter is a faerie? I've never seen him do one faerie like thing the entire time I've known you to own him," Cyric asked. Saraid glared at the red of Fighter's fur and snapped her fingers.

"Yes. Now just start destroying everything! Who ever was following us will pick up on my magic eventually and follow it here. I can not afford for anyone to find my father's library!" Saraid yelled. It was killing her, destroying everything that connected her to her father. She flicked her hand first towards the desk. Red flames ignited and devoured the wood. It began to crawl up the walls and across the floor. Cyric picked up a chair and smashed the wood against the burning rug. Saraid grabbed two legs and lit the tips. she walked past the burning book shelf into her room. Fighter growled as Saraid threw the fire onto her bed. Tears lept from her eyes in great pain. The red drained from her body and was replaced by pink. Saraid turned away from her room and walked into her father's grand library.

It was here that her clan had learned each of it abilities. Here that Silma had learned of the court's corruption. Here in this library that Saraid's mother had given birth to Sayer and Saraid. This was were Sayer had learned of divination. It was here, in this library, that Saraid had learned of the Death Fires and earned herself the title of Death Fire Pixie. This library connected her past to her present and Saraid threw the fire into its wall. Collapsing to her knees, Saraid let the pain and tears blur her vision as she watched the red flames devour and blacken her world. A singular book fell from the shelves, jumping from the wreckage. A mortal picture of a tall man and woman holding a grey little boy and a small girl, her hands blackened from learning her trade. The girl's pink hair and eyes glistened as flames engulfed the photo album. The image of her family burning seared into Saraid's retinas. It stayed there long after Cyric carried her and Fighter out of the burning home. It stayed there after Saraid fell unconcious onto the hotel bed. The image replayed in her dreams, the fire taking first her long lost mother, then her late father, her reclusive brother, and finally saving her pain for last. The image broke her heart and refused to heal it. Refused to heal her.


	5. Letter to Reader

Hello fellow readers! Thank you for sticking with it thus far!

Sorry for the delay, I have been swamped with homework and I have just recently broke my arm. please bare with me and recommend this to other Tithe fans you know.

P.S.: That last paragraph in chapter 4 actually made me cry while I was writing it. I suggest listening to Breathe Me while reading that last part if you want to get the full power I wished it to hold.

Thank you,  
CannibalXPhaerie


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: I do not own Tithe, a Mrs. Holly Black does! These are just a few of my ideas I would put into a story if I got the chance!!

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Sonda Saraid Signa - Death Fire Pixie  
*Kaye Rye - Pixie Changling - Queen  
*Rath Roiben Rye - Elfen Knight - King  
Worse Weylin Rye - Moth Winged Faerie - Prince  
Silen Sayer Signa - Divining Faerie  
Cyric - River Kelpie  
* - Original Characters

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Saraid's fires

Pink - Pain  
Green - Healing  
Violet - Illusion  
Red - Fury  
Yellow- Defense  
Indigo – Night

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Cyric tugged gently at Saraid's pink hair. The pixie nearly died in the fire. She had collapsed the fire began to ravage her home. Fighter ran to Cyric and alerted the kelpie of his friend's state. He carried Saraid out of her home; Fighter rode upon his shoulder as they escaped the horrendous flames. Saraid had fallen into a form of post traumatic stress. The three arrived at a hotel in a small town nearby; Cyric had to glamour Saraid and himself because Saraid was unable to glamour herself. The inn keeper was more than happy to give the three a room, despite to _No Pets_ policy. The lady must have had a heart attack seeing a grown 'man' carry a tearful, unmoving young 'lady' with a weasel on his shoulder, soot covering all three.

Saraid was dreaming; Cyric could see her eyes moving behind her black eyelids. He had sat many a night just watching Saraid sleep. He loved Saraid, but only as friends could love each other. He had known Saraid her whole life; had he not promised himself away Cyric's love might be stronger for Saraid. No, it was not in a kelpie's nature to love one of the opposite sex; his father was one in dozens to defy that unspoken law. However, Cyric's love did ask that he watch over Saraid. As common to all faeries: his word was his binding law if he bade it to be and so Cyric watched over Saraid.

Fighter slept upon the very pillow Saraid used; the little faerie enjoyed the warmth she gave off. The TV was on to drown out any talking Saraid and Cyric were to have, but for now Cyric used it to drown out his own one sided ramblings. Saraid slept over the blankets; Cyric didn't want to waste time going through the motions.

The kelpie let the strand of hair he had a hold of go and leaned back in the chair. Sighing, he began to wonder the time. He did not know if it was day or night, if a day had passed or a week. All he knew was that the inn keeper had visited their room thrice and each time she bore food that he nor Saraid could consume. His anxiety was getting the best of him and he was afraid Saraid would never wake again. His glistening pearl eyes began to gleam and swim with tears. A knock pounded against the door a fourth time.

Cyric spun off the chair, his glamour making his monstrous features human. He didn't even bother to put a shirt on when he answered the door. The inn keeper looked at him in amazement; most humans were attracted to faeries despite the internal fear.

"Hello again! I brought some breakfast and clothing for you guys! I had to guess sizes but I'm good at that sort of thing!" the inn keeper said cheerfully. She walked right into the room and laid the clothing and food upon the second unused bed. She looked at Saraid, whom Cyric had managed to glamour, and sighed.

"Poor dear! Has she woken up at all this entire time?" the lady asked. Cyric stole a glance at her name tag, _Janelle_. Cyric said and sat upon the edge of the bed and ran a hand across Saraid's cheek.

"I fear she's suffering from post traumatic stress. I can't remember how long ago it happened. When did we come here?" Cyric asked, a single tear running down his face. Janelle gave Cyric a shocked look.

"You came here nearly two weeks ago. What happened?" Janelle asked. Cyric cringed; Saraid had not woken for two weeks. Fighter lifted his head and whimpered, he knew something was terribly wrong with Saraid.

"There was a fire, at our home. It was her family home, one that had been in her family for quite some time. I never thought something like that could harm her, she's the strongest person I know…" Cyric said, his voice growing softer and slower with each word. Finally the tears overpowered Cyric and he leaned against his best friend, not even bothering to compose himself. Sobs sent spasms through out his body. Janelle watched in horror as the beautiful and terrifying man before her wept against what seemed to be his lovely, youthful, and magnificent wife. She fought her fear and went to Cyric's side and tried to soothe him.

"There, there! She is alive still! She will wake! I promise! Sir, do you believe in fairy tales?" Janelle asked. Cyric lifted his head, astonished by the outlandish question. He looked at the older woman. She had graying brunette hair and a stout body. However, Janelle carried an old world charm, a child-like fascination with the world. Still very confused, Cyric nodded slowly, wondering what rode she would lead him down.

"Kiss her then! She is your sleeping beauty!" Janelle spoke, green eyes wide in splendor. Cyric chuckled lightly and looked to Saraid.

"I'm sorry, but Saraid is only my best friend," Cyric explained. Janelle blinked, a relationship that close hardly seemed as a friendship, but these people seemed foreign.

"It couldn't hurt to try though," Janelle spoke, wisdom falling from between her teeth. Cyric sighed, the mortal was right. A gentle paled hand tilted Saraid's head towards his own. He hesitated, a moment too long. He closed his tearing eyes and sighed. Droplets of water fell upon Saraid's pale white skin.

"I'm sorry," Cyric whispered as he hung his head. Janelle stood and patted Cyric's shoulder.

"It's alright there boy. I know it will work. I have to go now; a customer is ringing the bell at the counter. Best of luck!" Janelle said, false enthusiasm drowning her voice. She left, the door closing only slightly behind her.

Cyric took a deep breath and opened his white eyes. He had cast the glamour away from Saraid and himself. He steeled himself for whatever to happened. Trembling, leaned his head down and pressed his dark lips against Saraid's bright pink skin. He poured as much magic as he believed he could into her. Cyric pulled away, praying the fairy tales his mother had told him as a child were real, believing magic was real. Saraid did not stir.

"No! God damn me and everything I am!" Cyric screamed. Only more tears shed themselves from his eyes. Cyric pounded a fist against the bed, believing he was foolish to have ever believed the crazy old wench. He screamed, his sorrow never deeper than at that moment. His love was miles away, probably very aware his sister was in a coma. Cyric was alone and he felt it, the pain so much more unbearable because it was coming from within his mortal soul, a being so foreign and alien to him that he never even dreamt one could have existed for him.

"What if I tried?" a voice called from the doorway. Cyric quickly glamoured himself and Saraid before turning, horrified, to the door. There stood Prince Weylin, not even bothering to glamour himself. Janelle stood next to him, her eyes foggy from whatever magic Weylin had placed over her. Cyric released his glamour and jumped to his feet. Anger replaced the sadness and pain.

"It's your fault she's this way!" Cyric yelled, his hand claws. Weylin sighed and walked to Cyric. He moved with pain and tiredness, his actions uncaring and blunt. His red and black eyes seemed glassy, a sadness within him.

"You would be correct, Kelpie," Weylin stated. Cyric was taken back. This man was not the hot-tempered prince he had encountered two weeks ago. Something was haunting him, draining him of life.

"Why are you here, Prince?" Cyric asked. Weylin walked to Saraid and collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion kicking in.

"At first, I merely followed you in hopes to kill this damn creature. After she used another of her infernal flames, I was lost. It did not take me long to pick up on your trail again. But then it hit me. The magic I was using to track her by attached itself to me, trying to find life in me. I managed to keep it at bay until I reached the burned tree. All the sorrow, pain, and loss of that place, it all fed her magic and it attacked me again. That time, I was not strong enough.

Now I can not sleep, I'm haunted by this girl and her pain in my very dreams. I can not eat, I'm hungry but as Saraid lies in this state I can't eat. The only glamour I hold is that of hypnotizing humans. Her pain is fusing into my soul and forcing me to find her. Until her pain ends, this magic she cursed me with will devour me until I am nothing more than a living memory!" Weylin cried. Cyric was amazed. Saraid's magic was attacking the prince, even while she lay in such a state. Weylin let one sob escape as his wings twitched.

"Please, let me wake her," Weylin cried. Cyric merely nodded, white eyes wide. Weylin turned and smiled as best he could, a physical 'thank you'. Weylin's snow white hand held Saraid's black cheek. Praying for release, the prince placed his lips against the pixie he had once longed to kill.

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Her skin burned and felt tight against her. Slowly a pressure lay upon her abdomen and chest. The pressure was cool against the burn and she longed to arc her body closer to it, but she was unable. It was dark and she tried to scream, but no sound could escape her closed lips. Soon, a coolness touched her cheek. Panic welled down, she suddenly knew she wasn't alone. Then the coldness touched her lips, and like a key to the lock, she was free.

Saraid pressed her lips to the coldness, the burning suddenly hotter. One hand went to the cold upon the cheek. She tried to arc her body, to relieve the burning, but the coldness left her lips and she opened her eyes. Nearly identical eyes stared back at her, relief simmering in their brims. The heat slowly exited her, she felt renewed but not quite healed. That would come with time.

"Thank God, you're ok," a voice whispered from beside Saraid. She turned to see Cyric kneeling beside her, smiling for seemed to be the first time in a long time. She nodded; her voice had fled her body. Fighter squeaked happily from beside her, his excitement nearly too much for his small body to bear. Weylin hoisted himself off of the bed and stood next to the bed. The winged prince seemed to have more life in him. He waved his hand and Janelle left the room. The three sat in relative silence, although Fighter made enough noise for all of them.

"Saraid, please speak," Cyric spoke. Saraid frowned, her voice was gone. After moments passed, Cyric bowed his head and growled.

"Your work isn't finished, Weylin, she can't speak," Cyric growled. The prince sighed and looked at Saraid with pleading eyes. Fear and confusion fell into her soul causing Saraid to turn away from his eyes. Cyric stood and grabbed the white dress that lay on the bed.

"C'mon Saraid, we'd best get you ready to go," Cyric said, turning to help Saraid sit up.

"Where are we going?" Weylin asked. Cyric began helping Saraid to the bathroom, where she would change in privacy.

"We need to speak to Sayer," was all the Kelpie said before leaving Weylin all alone to help Saraid.


End file.
